Don't Leave
by wearebulletproof
Summary: Izaya Orihara was known very well for his cold nature; always having a joy to mess with others. People hated him and he knew it very well but didn't seem fazed. It was like he was proud of being hated. That's until...one person comes along and somehow his words...managed to sting the cold boy.


**Disclaimer: Does it look like I own ShiZaya/Durarara? Nope. By the way, this plot line was inspired by the ShiZaya doujinshi on YouTube called "Everybody Hates Izaya", but I added my own ending to it. **

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**Chapter 1; Behind Those Hazel Eyes**

Of course I enjoyed what I was doing. It was fun. I had loads of fun messing with people and their minds, finding their reactions interesting and worth looking forward to. They had never surprised me; not a single one. They found it hard to crack me and I knew no one would be able to. My heart had grown solid; cold and not beating. Everyone said I didn't have a heart, which made sense. I had never let anyone in, I never smiled out of happiness, I never shed a single tear for someone's death or mourned after a "loved" one. I was all alone. As I have been my whole life. I never shared a good memory with my parents or my family because . . . they were never there. They vanished. They disappeared when I was born and all I knew was my name, my birth date, and the fact that my own parents-my own flesh and blood-didn't even want me. Since then, my legacy has continued. I hardened my heart, becoming a criminal I swore I would never become; a devil to the soul and a criminal to the heart. I cared about no one. I cared about nothing. I didn't even value my own life. I mean . . . what's the point? What's the point of living a life where no one wants you? Where everyone left you behind for _their_ own benefit? No matter where I turned or who I faced, everyone hated me. And I _loved_ it all.

I remember when I was young. I cut off a little girls' doll's long, healthy black hair that was pinned up neatly in two pigtails that rested on the side of his small, rubber head. She cried. The little girl cried as she was comforted by our 3rd grade teacher. And I sat there-grinning so wide and so wicked-with a pair of scissors in my hand. I felt proud in that moment.

_"I hate you!"_ I recalled the little girl's words to me. _"I hate you, Izaya! Hate you, hate you, hate you!"_

Like her words possible would mean anything to me. I couldn't care less. In fact, at that very moment, I discovered my _wicked passion_ and love for humanity.

But no matter how many times she repeated those words, none of them affected me . . . Or so I thought.

I grew up with incidents like those. From the girl who I cut her doll's hair off to the boy that I burned his hand with a straining iron. To the father-pedophile, actually, in the most simplest term I can make-who was exposed for having an affair with me, just to prove how worthless he was and how pathetic his wife was. _I hate you_ became a regular thing for me. I got used to it very quickly. From age 2 to 17, I grew up with hate, shame, anger, and alienation. I never knew what it meant to be wanted or to held by someone. Then _this_ little asshole came and made my life even more exciting.

His name is Shizuo Heiwajima. He was tall and exceptionally good-looking. His hair was always the same color; light-a bit too odd for my taste-blonde. He had a slim figure line and dressed like a bartender, having a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses over his eyes. We grew up together in the same high-school. When we first met, we developed this relationship where we just wanted to _kill_ each other. He hated me. I hated him. And so forth. I knew him since I was 12 years old. Now I'm turning 20 today and I plan on having an outstanding birthday.

May I confess something first? Do keep this in mind, kitties. I grew up without an understanding of life itself. But I think I could be gay . . . Surprising, right? I know! It shocked me, too. Strangely, over the years of knowing Shizuo, feelings sprouted for the older man. I found myself missing not being around him or by his side. I missed seeing his sly smirk and that triumphant glint in his dark brown eyes. I kept thinking about him and even had a few dreams about him (not a wet dream either!). At first, I didn't know what to make of the feelings I was experiencing. But then I saw him with some boy he would always hang out with and be around. The boy looked so young-younger than me-with light navy blue hair. He had a baby face, which I didn't find attractive at all. However, I saw Shizuo and that boy hanging out one day . . . The boy kissed Shizuo. On the lips. And for the first time, I felt tears form in my eyes and my heart clenched. I had avoided him for days. _Weeks_. He could see me and try to pick a fight-like he always did when we saw each other-but I would leave as fast as I could. However, thanks to a geek who saw me cry the day that kid kissed Shizuo, Shizuo knows _everything_. I knew he mentioned my feelings-like it wasn't obvious . . .-because Shizuo had caught me the next day and slammed me to a wall, demanding answers. I gave him the answers he desired. Truthfully. Honestly. I never denied loving him because I knew I did. Shizuo was shocked by my confession and let me go as I ran off. A year has passed since that day. It seemed to haunt him because each time I got close to him, a tinted pink color would cross his cheeks and I would spot a tint in his pants . . . What the heck is that supposed to mean?!

But today is my 20th birthday, nonetheless. And I am determined to have some fun. Walking down the street, I was looking for my first victim to toy with. Anyone that looked vulnerable or was weak would do. I came to a halting stop when I noticed Shizuo running towards me, but not with his usual crippled "STOP" sign in his hands.

"Perfect timing." I said with a grin, grabbing my good old flick-blade I always carried with me, just in case I ran into him. I watched Shizuo stop in front of me, panting harshly, and gave me the most hardest glare he could come up with. "Why, hello." I twirled the knife around my fingers. "What a fine day-"

"How could you?!" He yelled and I stared at him. "You fool!" He roared, causing the citizens surroundings us to stop and stare.

"Do care and explain why you're so upset, _little one_." I said mockingly and smirked as he growled at me. He hated being called that.

"How dare you plaster posters about Mikado being anorexic! HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO HIM!" He shouted. _Mikado?_ Isn't that a girls name? Was he that boy who kissed him . . .? Ah, yes. I randomly chose a weak kid and it turned out to be the boy who kissed the guy I loved. Yeepee. Shocker.

"Like I would care about your precious _Mikado_, Shizuo." I spat with a grin. Shizuo's glare hardened.

"I hate you, Izaya!" He screamed out loud and I froze. Never before have I heard him say that . . . Never thought I would. "I hate you! Hate you, hate you, hate you!" My eyes grew wide and I stared at him. Several silent minutes have passed before I noticed a chance in Shizuo's expression. Shizuo's angry expression contorted into shock as he pulled off his black sunglasses.

". . . Why are you crying?" He said slowly.

_Crying . . . ?_ I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I tightly closed my eyes shut and the knife drop from my fingers. I opened my eyes and sobbed softly as I stared at the man in front of me .I then saw realization hit him as murmurs from the civilians hung in the air.

_"Serves him right . . ."_

_"Why is he crying? He never cries!"_

_"Ha ha. Look at him. So pathetic."_

Shizuo ran over to me and I originally thought he was going to slam his fist into my face, so I prepared myself and squeezed my eyes shut. But, instead, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and my eyes shot open as he hugged me tightly to his chest. My cheek was pressing against his chest and I held my breathe.

_He smells so good today . . ._

"I'm sorry . . . " He said and my eyes widened. "I never knew it hurt you so much . . . No one understood you or looked into your heart. You were shunned . . . yet people refused to know you for the real _you_." I exhaled a bit and stayed frozen in place.

"S . . . Shizu-chan?" I murmured in shock.

"Yet you hid your pain so well, didn't you?!" He said and pulled away, cupping my face in his hands. I frowned and looked at his eyes.

_How did he know . . . ? How did he know that it secretly hurt me . . . ? _

"I . . . I don't understand . . . " I said and he sighed softly.

"You longed to be loved, Izaya." He said and my eyes widened. "You desired for friendship. That's all you wanted; to be accepted and wanted in life, didn't you? Was that a goal you tried so hard to achieve? Or was it a goal you knew you never could possibly reach . . . ?" His tone was so soft . . . "I'm so sorry for bad things that happened to you. Really, I am. I grew up with family that hated me because I believed in the new generation, rather than the old. Yet you . . . You never experienced the love of a parent or a family member. Everyone thought you chose to be like this but because of your ugly past, it shaped you into the person you are now! But you can change, Izaya!

". . . Change?" I said with a shaking voice as tears threatened to fall. "H-How . . . ?"

"That's easy." Shizuo softly smiled down at me and came closer, caressing my cheeks. "Open your heart. Even if he we have to runaway to start a new life, I would _gladly_ runaway with you!" He said and my eyes widened.

"Y-You would?!"

"Yes, I would, Izaya." He said soothingly and gently held the back of my head, his fingers tangling into my tussled black hair. I could feel his thumbs resting on a little bit of my cheek but mostly on my ears. I shivered softly at the sensation and a deep blush crossed my cheeks.

"T-Then . . . can we runaway?" I asked and he smiled that smile I fell for. My heart skipped a bit.

"I'd go anywhere with you, Izaya." He said and leaned his head down. My eyes widened as his lips pressed on to mine. I was frozen for the first few seconds as my heart pounded in my chest. I felt his tongue glide along my lower lip and I shivered softly. Slowly closing my eyes, I parted my lips a bit. Although, I didn't know exactly what to do since this was my first kiss . . . Shizuo seemed to know _exactly_ what he was doing.

A second later, our tongues were battling softly for domination. I felt his fingers in my hair slightly grip my locks and gently tilt my head up so he didn't have to bend down slightly to keep the kiss. Shizuo was taller than me. I was only up to his shoulders, which sucked because he always teased me about my height . . . Screw tall people.

I whimpered softly into the kiss and finally felt myself relax into it. With shaking hands, I wrapped my arms around him and gripped the back of his shirt tightly. Shizuo's lips slightly curled into a smile and he came closer, our bodies pressing against each other.

That's when it hit me . . . Shizuo loves me, too. I could deal with that. I could deal with the fact that him and I will be running away together; for a new life together. The fact is . . . Shizuo was the only person that could see behind my eyes. He could see the pain I was going through and accepted me for me. That's why I love him so much . . .

_Shizuo . . ._

I opened my eyes and looked up at Shizuo as he gently pulled away from the kiss, his eyes looking down at me. He smiled and I found myself smiling back at him; out of happiness this time. He leaned down and connected our lips again in a passionate kiss. As our lips moved in sync against each other, I watched his eyes close before my own eyes did the same. I gripped his shirt more.

_. . . Don't leave . . . _

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**the end**

**Author's note:** heyyyooo! so this is my first story. i hope you guys enjoyed it. lemme know what you think by leaving a review? ^_^v peace!


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